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It was hard, bluish, and shone like the stars. It was a piece of Harvest technology, and it wasn’t inactive, either. It was giving off a clear beacon.

He had seen an item like this before. In the eye socket of the basilisk, no less. It winked out when the creature died. This one was still active. In the back of his mind, he knew what this meant.

“Get everyone somewhere safe NOW! Namid, incoming!”

Irian was already moving, kittychicken squawking under his arm as he ran for the trunk in the bedroom they borrowed. The kittychicken was gnawing on Irian with all he was worth to try and be let go. It wasn’t working, so he grabbed Irian’s arm and started batting it with his hind feet. Irian was nonplussed.

Namid was off in a flash, her speed still greater than Irian’s. She tore through the streets as though the hounds of Arawn were chasing her. In the window, to the chest under the bed, weapons flying out the window. She was back out the window when she realized she had almost shimmied out onto the pommel point of Irian’s sword, now embedded in the earth in front of her. Irian was only a few steps behind, reaching for her hand to pull her up while tossing the kittychicken in the window. Namid slammed the window home, grabbed her pack, and ran with Irian.

“What’s coming?”

“I have no idea. Cairbre’s toy was a Harvest transponder.”

“Irian, have you ever thought he’s more trouble than he’s worth?”

“Not when he brings me a buried working transponder. He’s all the warning we have.”

“You could have told me that. At least the noisebox is somewhere safe.”

“We hope. Good creature, he is. I wish I had a lab to run some tests on him. He’s obviously Harvest, but no attack mode.”

Their footfalls drummed the hard-packed dirt as they made their way to the signal’s source.

Rising from the sea was a creature Irian had only heard of, but Namid had seen with her own eyes.

In the midst of a roiling wall of foam, a kraken’s tentacles lashed out toward the shore.